All Things Must Change
by Lady Cleo
Summary: Robin reflects on her past two years of her life with her silent warden. Post ep. 26 AxR


All Things Must Change   
  
By Lady Cleo  
  
All Disclaimers Apply.  
  
Two years ago-there was a time when two years would have seemed like forever, but passed in a blur of days.  
  
Two years ago, time would have slipped through her fingers before she could grasp it, in a beautiful blur of days and nights. But that was two years ago. The sun light shifted over the drab green carpet and onto the bright floral comforter as Robin stood in the bathroom doorway, her eyes searching the motel room as though it held the answers to life. She gently ran the comb through her damp auburn hair; a cold droplet of water ran down her neck soaking into the large grey night shirt.  
  
Two years ago she wouldn't have bothered with any constricting night clothes.  
  
Silently she padded across the room and climbed onto the mattress, setting the brush on the nightstand as she slipped her long legs beneath the cold cotton sheets. Emerald eyes peered silently out the window, watching as the sun started its long climb into the sky, the fresh snow still lingering on the window sill. Turning away she laid her head down on the soft pillow and listened in on the busy morning noises, trying to image what her life would have been like had fate not shoved her in this direction.  
  
Two years ago she would have had a place to call home, not the multitude of motels and hotels that only seemed to serve as shelters to keep the rain off. Apartments were too risky as they required background checks, former residences and created questions behind prying eyes.  
  
Two years ago she would have had a steady paying job; even if it had been a high risk one. Now she worked in all night dinners, serving coffee to poor tippers in a job that barely kept her fed.  
  
Two years ago she didn't live in a shadow, just barely avoiding the hand of SOLOMON as it struggled to catch hold and squeeze the life from her veins. Two years ago she wouldn't have been running from death.  
  
The motel door opened quietly, the dark figure that stood in the doorway shrouded in shadows as he slipped quietly into the room, bolting the door behind him. Robin watched as he trudged wearily over to the window, pulling the curtains closed, blocking out the light and the sound of normalcy. She felt his eyes linger on her form for but a second, only a second. He moved away, kicking off his shoes as he dropped his coat onto a nearby chair and crawled into bed. He didn't even bother with removing the black security uniform, only took a second to remove his shoulder holster and slip the two guns beneath his pillow.  
  
Two years ago he wouldn't have shared a life with her beyond work. Somehow he'd become the one constant in her life, his dark shadow the only thing that kept her going as they trudged from one country to the next. He was the force that seemed to constantly outwit the stretching hand of SOLOMON. Even when they seemed to wander in circle after circle he was the only force that kept her from feeling lost or dizzy. The way he stood behind her, always in his dark moods with sullen glares, had become a comfort. His cold voice and silent bouts seemed to be a comforting measure, something she could always count on.  
  
Two years ago there communication had still been at a basic level, with occasional words required. But two years of constant companionship had changed that, words seemed to be trifle matters. A look, a gesture and a world of communication flew between them, at times she almost thought that maybe they'd developed some kind of telepathic communication. The wind howled against the window panes and Robin snuggled deeper into the blankets, understanding why Amon chose to remain fully clothed as the room took on a frigid temperature. Beyond their heightened communication little else had changed, he remained her silent partner, her constant guardian, her warden, perhaps maybe with a stronger bond of trust then before.  
  
Sometimes she thought she'd seen a kindle sparking deep within those dark eyes. She had often felt those dark mysterious eyes on her and though they had not softened in any manner there was something else hidden deeply beneath the mask of indifference, the steel grey eyes hid a dark secret. She felt as though she had not cracked the mask, had not even dented it, but had somehow found a door and slipped onto the other side, closing the door firmly behind her. She understood the hidden motives, every movement he'd ever made, and every facial twitch; every dark look suddenly had a whole world of different meanings.  
  
The cold nipped down her spine and Robin found her eyes shifting to gaze upon the only man, the only mortal being left in her life. She sat up resolutely, grabbing a hold of her comforter, keenly aware of his eyes falling to her form, she stood from the bed and padded gently over to his, tossing the comforter onto his own and slipping beneath the blankets. He didn't protest, didn't stir from his position, nor seemed in fact to truly care.  
  
She shifted to her side, eyes meeting his, a silent question within the fiery depths of her emerald eyes. He did not refuse. She moved closer, feeling the heat of his body, the warm breath that slipped from his lips. He did not protest, he did not pull away from her close proximity. Finally when she could get no closer she coiled against him, burying her face at the base of his neck and taking a deep breath, inhaling his scent. His breathing was calm and steady, her hand reached out cautiously laying over the center of his chest, trying to feel his pulse beneath her fingers, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall.  
  
His arm slipped from his side, falling to her waist and curving around to gently pressing against her lower back, his cool hand burning her skin through the night shirt. His left hand slipped beneath her form coming up to the nape of her neck, playing gently with the long strands of auburn, the pressure he applied on her back pulling her infinitely closer. Their bodies now interlocked together Robin suddenly forgot about her past, about those two years ago as she continued to feel the pressure of his arms holding her close, the warmth of his body, and the scent that she inhaled deeply with each breath.  
  
This was where she felt she belonged, deep within the protection of his embrace, not within the past, recalling something that had slipped from her grasp so long ago.  
  
Her arms moved slowly up clutching at his lapels and she closed her eyes tightly slowly pulling her head back, her cheek running along the stubble on his chin, fingers tightening their hold until her knuckles turned white with the strain. She could feel his breath on her lips, felt his eyes boring onto her face. In the pleasure of his arms, her inhibitions seemed to melt away and she gently pressed her lips against his. She had not expected any positive response, maybe his pulling away, perhaps anger.  
  
Yet neither happened, instead he countered her expectations, tightening his grip almost to the point of painful, his lips searing hers as he deepened the kiss, the pressure parting her lips and forcing a moan down through her throat. Unlocking her fingers from the lapels she arched her body infinitely closer, entangling her legs with his as his fingers trailed up her back, tracing the muscle, pulling the grey neckline down and over her shoulder exposing the pale crème flesh. Her entire body seemed to tingle and ache while her head spun in dizzying patterns as lack of oxygen finally set in.  
  
Pulling his lips from hers they both took great gasping breaths, his stormy eyes opening to gaze back into her fiery eyes, a question echoing between the two. A question that she answered whole heartedly, reassuring her own fear, understanding what remained beneath the stormy grey eyes. The questions, the fears had been answered without a word said, and his lips fell to gently tease the exposed flesh of her shoulder, lightly rolling over so that his form hovered over hers.  
  
Two years ago she'd been a stranger in his eyes, a possible threat.  
  
Two years ago she could have never imaged that he'd ever trust her.  
  
Two years ago this man had hunted her.  
  
But that- was two years ago. 


End file.
